Now Mr Wu was a laundry man in a shop with an old green door
He'll iron all day your linen away, he really makes me sore
He's lost his heart to a Chinese girl and his laundry's all gone wrong
All day he'll flirt and scorch your shirt, that's why I'm singing this song
Oh Mr Wu, what shall I do, I'm feeling kind of Limehouse Chinese Laundry Blues
This funny feeling keeps round me stealing
Oh wont you throw your sweetheart over do
My vest's so short that it won't fit my little brother
And my new Sunday shirt has got a perforated rudder
Mr Wu, what shall I
I'm feeling kind of Limehouse Chinese Laundry Blues
Now Mr Nu, he's got a naughty eye that flickers
You ought to see it wobble when he's ironing ladies blouses
Mr Wu, what shall I do, I'm feeling kind of Limehouse Chinese Laundry Blues
Now Mr Wu, he's got a laundry kind of tricky,
He'll starch my shirts and collars but he'll never touch my waistcoat
Mr Wu, what shall I do, I'm feeling kind of Limehouse Chinese Laundry Blues